


Snare

by k2b



Category: The Pretender
Genre: F/M, pretend gone wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-18
Updated: 2013-07-18
Packaged: 2017-12-20 14:19:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/888242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/k2b/pseuds/k2b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While chasing Jarod Miss Parker accidently gets caught alongside him by one of his targets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snare

**Author's Note:**

> **Notes:** Mostly it’s just a bit of fun. Not particularly angsty, nor particularly fluffy, but maybe a little cracky.  
>  **Disclaimer:** Not mine.

She’s caught up in one of his pretends. A killer who abducts victims, takes them to a deserted stretch of Virginia wood and stalks them through the trees. If they don’t get killed by him, they get killed by the wildlife. Failing that, they die of exposure. The killer’s smarter than Jarod has anticipated and manages to get both of them into the woods, sans weapons, phones, supplies or decent clothing. 

Jarod’s surprised to see her, but doesn’t bother to listen to her ranting at his ineptitude, pointing out she’d better to put her anger to good use by helping him catch the asshole or get free. Not in so many words, of course – being the good little pretender Sydney created him to be. In turn she confines her swearing to a few choice cuss words about his parentage, which he cheerfully deflects back at her. After all they’re fairly certain about his lineage, but not about hers.

Shots ring out a few minutes later, bullets zipping past them, and they’re forced to abandon the clearing they’re in to find somewhere denser to hide. For a few minutes, it’s just the sound of her heart and his breathing and pursuit and gunshots and she wonders if this is what it’s like to be him and then decides she doesn’t care. Finally, after what seems like an hour, the asshole has to reload and they use the opportunity to find cover. 

They end up in a tiny little nook, more ‘hole’ than ‘cave’, but Jarod is a master of disguise and she’s had enough practice to be a help rather than a hindrance, so she’s fairly certain they’re well hidden. Certainly a few minutes later the killer walks past them – carelessly loud, sure of his prey in a way that makes the huntress in her smirk – without noticing their hiding spot.

She makes to leave, but Jarod holds her back and shakes his head. In answer, she rolls her eyes, but defers to his knowledge in the area of being hunted. For a moment their gazes meet, and she sees his pupils dilate. Interesting. So – because she’s wondered – she kisses him.

It’s not really a surprise when he kisses her back, nor is particularly surprising that kissing is something else he’s good at doing.

Although she doesn’t mind continuing this, there is a killer stalking them to worry about, so she pulls back and feels smug at his slightly dazed expression. She pulls him out of their hiding place, but doesn’t follow as he heads off in the wrong direction.

“Miss Parker, we’ve got to go,” he insists.

She shakes her head. “Asshole went this way, and I’m not going home until I catch him.” She doesn’t wait for him to answer that, starting off on her own, knowing he’ll follow.

“This is stupid,” he says from behind her.

“Big words from a genius. Now be quiet.”

Together they find the monster standing between two trees obviously trying to figure out where they went. His head’s cocked, and his gun is hanging loosely, pointing down – he hasn’t noticed their approach. 

Amateur, she scoffs mentally.

She shares a glance with Jarod that almost manages to forget about their earlier kiss and he nods. She doesn’t know what he’s planning, doesn’t know if he knows what she’s planning, but figures they’ll work it out as they go along. After all it’s a game they’ve been playing for years, even if their roles have been changed for this round: this monster hasn’t a hope in hell of beating them.

In response to her silent agreement, Jarod rushes out and tackles the killer, knocking his gun to the ground and getting in a good couple of punches before the idiot responds. Parker grabs the gun and their would-be hunter goes for his knife and Jarod is forced to back up out of range.

The killer’s unaware of Parker, discounting her or too caught up in blood lust to notice her standing there _with his gun_. Whatever the reason, her opinion him drops further and that irritates her because he managed to catch her the first time.

She cocks the gun as he dives for Jarod and she has a split second to decide where to aim. She fires and hits her mark. The killer’s momentum takes him forward another couple of steps where he falls at Jarod’s feet, dead, a bullet in his skull.

If she expects gratitude, she’s not going to get it from Jarod. “You didn’t have to kill him,” the pretender says, irritated.

Technically he’s right. She could have gone for the knees; she just didn’t think it was worth it. “You’re telling me he deserved to live?” she asks.

“Everyone deserves a chance at redemption, Miss Parker.”

If he’s baiting a metaphor, she’s not biting. “Everyone?” she says. “Even men like this monster? Even men like my father?”

To his credit he doesn’t ask her which one though if she annoys him enough he just might.

“Did you really think he’s going to reform his ways, Jarod? Even you’re not this naive. This way he doesn’t cost taxpayers money when he has to have reconstruction surgery on his knees, and then there’s the cost of keeping him in prison—”

“Reasoned arguments for a heat of the moment action?”

She’d tell him to fuck off, but she thinks it might come out like a suggestion and she’d really like to get out of this forest first.

“I’m not going to apologise for killing him,” she says instead. “Not when it gets me out of cleaning up your mess.”

After a moment he nods. Then he looks up, it’s getting darker, getting late. “We’d better go.”

She has no clue about the way out, but Jarod seems to know where he’s going, so she lets him lead. They don’t talk much, not because there’s nothing to say (they always have something to say, even if it’s just a competition to see who can crack the fastest – her, always her), but because in the growing gloom it’s taking a fair amount of concentration to keep their footing steady.

It’s still light, if only just, when they reach the road and Jarod’s jeep. He radios for someone to come and find the body while she uses the rear view mirror to pick twigs out of her hair. She straightens her clothes and checks the damage to her shoes, but stops when she catches him watching her, amused.

“What?” she says, sliding out of the car to stand in front of him.

“Nothing,” he says, and then leans over and kisses her.

She’s not expecting it, but she’s not really surprised given she kissed him first.

Curious, she wonders how far he’ll let her take this, and how far she’s willing to go herself. She pushes her body up against his and opens her mouth and he doesn’t hesitate, pressing her against the bonnet of the car. It’s a slight scramble but then she’s perched up there and it’s a much better angle to reach him.

They don’t stop because that would mean thinking about what they’re doing and Parker doesn’t know about him but she really doesn’t want to think about what she’s doing right now. So she focuses on the doing.

And the doing is pretty damned good, actually.

**

They’re both dressed and (mostly) tidy by the time the local ranger arrives and some time after that the police and the FBI and the reporters and a number of other people are swarming the area. Both of them stay well away from the public, only answering a handful of questions from the authorities to avoid suspicion.

The police are trying to pull them in one direction, the FBI in another but as neither of them are under arrest they decline the option of going anywhere.

By the time Sydney and Broots show up, Jarod’s gone and she’s more than ready to go home.

Two days later there are flowers on her door step when she gets home from a day of fruitless searching.

The note, written in familiar handwriting reads, ‘Thanks for saving my life.’ She rolls her eyes but puts them in water and resolutely refuses to mention them to him the next time he calls her on a wild goose chase.


End file.
